


christmas dinner

by ruruka



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, sex.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 09:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruruka/pseuds/ruruka





	christmas dinner

the star stickers on the ceiling make him snort.

he isn't surprised, though, not in the slightest, with the juxtaposition he faces so often as wind purrs exemplified this night by his own crisp ironed shirt slacks and blazer beside the tiny mess of a man with sweater sleeves too long and pants beltless. he isn't surprised to walk into naegi's childhood bedroom and find the ceiling glowing a hazy timid neon before the lights flick on, nor is he taken especially by the trinkets lining the window sill dust, nor the soft navy comforter balanced across the twin bed centering the room, all relics left behind in adolescence that spin the tale of naegi makoto. and what an... _interesting_ tale it is.

the radio croons politely downstairs, just enough to hear the melody far up in the hatch they've escaped to on the grounds of,  _oh, you wanna see my room? well...eheh, sure._ they'd slunk then, past his mother in the kitchen in her pale pink apron and oven mitts, strands of brunette tucked behind the ears to combat the flush of either cheek (and he'd only been watching her so intently as to absorb such details to ensure there's no err in her cooking, because he'd offered her help- yes,  _let me do that_ counts as  _help_ -but guests, and he quotes her, are supposed to relax); whilst she'd been caught so far the day through with her head half in the oven literally and figuratively both, his father's kept himself busy in the living room with the tv flickering, kept this  _guest_ occupied in asking and asking and asking and asking about the type of work he's got on his hands with that big business of his, all that fame and so on, conversation never dying between their fluttering mouths despite naegi's warbling embarrassment after every goofy joke or  _hey, you know, i've got some business ideas myself-_ but they've made it past them both in a twist, and so narrowly avoided his sweet sweet sister's nosy caterwauls in the upstairs hall before stomping her socks along the stairs, shouting for her mother the whole way down. something about whether or not the shortcake's finished baking, something about makoto's sneaking togami-san up to his room, tell them to leave the door open.

naegi slips his shoes to the floor, and drops himself like a perfect snow angel in the bed's midst. togami cocks his head a hard left angle, enough to garner eyes upon him, a melty smirk, a scooch over and a pat beside him. breathing light as the cold beyond the back window, he settles into the nose in his shoulder and arms round his middle. naegi smiles into his neck. togami sinks into bliss.

"i'm glad you agreed to come," that smile sings, then laughs shortly. "my parents have been begging to see you again. i think my dad is your biggest fan."

not that it boosts his ego or anything, but he's not sneezing at the admiration. right. he turns enough inward to meet their eyes, catch naegi's beam grow just in time to kiss it wider. he rests to his back now, one hand at the stomach and one lifting to sift through soft baby brunet looming just above him. "i'll have to make my cameos more often then."

naegi's eyes pinch into amusement, and he's swept into kissing again. hands flee quick up to each bicep to wrap and pull him closer, framing their chests in time to lips just the same, parting only for laughing breaths, a hard exhale of delight out the nose as they break a final, one with togami's hands firm and aged on naegi's jawline, and the captive there himself leaning up to kiss his forehead. togami sinks into bliss.

"makoto! that song you like's on," echoes the hallway up the staircase. and in such an atrocious accent, " _last christmas, i gave you my heeeart-"_

in a toss backward of the head for bemused joy, "i'll be right there, dad!" sounds from him, fore he turns back to press a final smirking kiss to the other's frown. "c'mon, we should get back to everybody."

ever relent, the hold does not. togami can only find his throat breeding a whine (never not once ever no not at all would a togami  _whine,_ how asinine) to refute departure's attempt. naegi nudges himself further, though gives in to him in more melding kisses that cannot wish themselves gone. though, still, " _byakuyaaa,_ we really should-"

"tell that to me again," husks against his lips the next moment, one upon which naegi's wrist has been taken to place a hand betwixt them, the divot sundering togami's thighs where his palm sits upon crisp ironed slacks with a hard-on half formed behind them. naegi swallows one tough note to hide the hot carmine painting his cheekbones.

"you want to...in  _here?"_ his bottom lip is gnawed the slightest measure. "i dunno, this is my old room...i used to jerk off in this bed all the time."

togami groans into a kiss upon the other's jaw. "you're horrible at deterring me."

beneath the flush, naegi's laughing again, and does not protest even mild to being turned to lay flat on his back, wrists pinned down and lips wet all down his throat. "nmm...all my anime figures are watching..."

togami would roll his eyes were he not so captivated by how stupidly charming the writhing body beneath him always proves to be. "good. then they'll all see what a breathless, moaning mess i so easily turn you into."

a lick up his throat draws the first of those moans and not a chance for denial.

he's worked beltless pants down to trembling knees by the time another shout jolts up the stairwell; " _makoootooo!_ mom said dinner's gonna be ready in ten minutes! you better get down here before she gives all the shortcake to her favorite child!"

" _mnh,"_ detaches their wet burning mouths, "i'll-i'll be down in a minute!"

"a minute? you have such little faith in me, sweetheart."

"nh-  _byakuyaaa_ -"

two fingers hook the hem of his boxer shorts to drag glory freed, follows just the same to undo his own button-fly and none else for time and fantasy's sake; how terrible of them to partake where any moment could foreign sight shame them. oh so terrible. his cock stiffens harder, and fills up the waiting wetness before it. bliss.

togami perches himself on either palm, working his hips forward...back...forward...back, forward, back, forwardbackforwardbackforwardback until he's driven to throw his head back and moan a hot note, dips down to clasp again naegi's face and kiss him stupid as he pounds into him fast and hot and needy and mad. the navy blue comforter crimps beneath their flushed bodies. naegi mewls his name loud enough to warrant a palm pressed over the mouth, and none do the thrusts slow to watch foggy green eyes roll back in his head, vibrations rumbling against the skin of his hand.

the faded harmonies below have time to switch only once before he feels his instincts all tremble. naegi's spine builds an arch inside his ugly stupid holiday sweater that's doing its job tenfold with the perspiration living underneath his hair. togami finds his own flesh scorching, too, grips nude hips and fucks him hard as sin until he knows his lover all too well and knows all too well that his lover's cumming hard on his cock, moaning just as promised, hot hot hot the name of who's sent him over whilst choking the sheets in both hands. just as delightful is it to catch his breath back, pull outwards, watch all his cum drip out, just as delightful is it to smell homecooking waft beneath the crack of the doorframe now.

his stomach growls. naegi balls tissues up into the bathroom trash on their way past toward the stairs, burning in flush all over.

togami smirks.

there's two empty place settings beside his father at the kitchen table when they arrive, his mother placed delicately in carving meat off a whole day's handiwork, stopping to smile at her boys as they approach to claim seats. she watches naegi return it vaguely, too cautious to meet her eyes much longer than a hot moment. she watches him, and togami watches him, and across the mistletoe print tablecloth, komaru watches him. "jeez, really makoto? on santa's birthday?"

" _komaru_ ," tuts their mother, waving off her tease to face the pair anew. "let's eat, hm? would you like chicken, togami-san?"

slow and soft, togami keeps still that stare upon the other, cannot help smoothing a smile cross his mouth so slight as he lifts his empty plate forward to look at her. "i'd love some."

such a lovely little holiday.


End file.
